


To Be Someone Else

by 1V1



Series: Apprentice Antics [9]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Masks, Masquerade, Seduction, Spoilers, mysterious lover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-24 21:06:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16647776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1V1/pseuds/1V1
Summary: To be someone you're not for one night- is that not everyone's dream at the masquerade? To pretend? Yet for the consul, his dream he intends to make into a reality.





	To Be Someone Else

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Artisanthemage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artisanthemage/gifts).



It was once a year- the infamous masquerade at the palace, the one time that commoner and nobility mixed and mingled, not knowing who was who behind all the gilt and gold. This year was the year you decided to go all out. You saved and saved and saved- all to get a dress made, a mask perfectly done by the artisans, and for one night only, you could forget everything. Be someone else, someone new and adventurous, bold and fearless. It would be your night, from domestic common caterpillar to exotic and seductive butterfly, leaving trails of glitter and gold dust with each step you took.  
Arriving by foot, you were glad for the flats you wore, as you knew by the nights end your feet would be sore from the sheer size of the palace and likely all the festivities. But you had time before the party’s end to enjoy it all, that was the promise of the countess anyway. Arriving to laughter and wonderous sights, you laughed with friends, made new ones, and frankly, were living the dream you’d had for a year.

To feel like you were beautiful, special, something someone might want.  
And without knowing, someone did want you, badly.

In the garden, giggling as you turned a corner in the labyrinth, you hardly expected to run into anyone, much less someone so… imposing. The gentle oof that escaped him was followed quickly by his voice- sonorous, sensual, and just a little bit… husky.  
“What is a butterfly doing in this tangled web?” He was taller than you, his gold and beige robes hiding most of his features, yet his mask and costume were finely made. The fur looked soft, and the horns shimmered with the gloss akin only to the real thing. Golden cat eyes seemed impossible, but you’d heard rumor of special lenses one might procure for such effects. A clawed hand held out to offer stability you took it without thinking, mesmerized by the feel. Where you had thought you’d gone to the limits of your ensemble, this man had outdone you in spades. Even the pads of his fingers felt animalistic. Like holding a beast’s paw.  
“Ah- web?” His smirk was punctuated with a tiny glimmer of white fangs, the smile chilling yet oh so teasingly threatening.  
“Yes. The labyrinth is no place for a pretty thing like yourself. Much less a lady.” He held your hand firmly, pushing you around to walk back the way you came. “It is much safer to head back inside, where the revelry is at it’s thickest. Out here, the only excitement you will find are for...” He purred almost the way he said it, “darker things.”

You came to the masquerade wanting fun, excitement, adventure, to be someone you normally would never be.  
“Maybe I want to experience darker things.” You replied, smiling like it was a game. Oh, later you would realize that was a mistake, a beautiful, perfect mistake. The man chuckled tilting his head as ombre hair fell around him like a curtain.  
“Then best keep fluttering trying to find your way out little butterfly. I can’t promise I will be so kind if I find you again.” A tongue peeked behind his lips, wetting them. Darker things indeed. Your heart fluttered at the man’s obvious attentions. Never had a man been so open in his attraction to you. The first feelings of lust stirring inside you as you took a step back, eyes locked to his own before you turned to go deeper into the green labyrinth. When you looked back, he was gone, vanished like a specter. It made your heart race. 

You didn’t see him until the end of labyrinth was in sight, the glittering lights of the palace just a single turn away. Yet firm and unyielding hands found you, grasping your wrist and pulling you flush to a hard and tall form. The man from before, horns across his face in an elaborate mask peered down, a grin gracing his mouth, now fully showing you the impressive set of fangs.  
“So we meet again little butterfly.” You hadn’t screamed, but the gasp was followed with and airy sight at the sight of him. Fear mingling with the embers of lust from before.  
“Am I caught? You asked, breathy, uncertain how to push back this man’s magnetic pull. “Captured by-“ Your eyes roved his form, drinking in the expanse of his pale neck and the way he had fur cascade down his neck and vanish into his robes.  
“A ram my dear. Stubborn, headstrong, unyielding in what it wants.” He bent, golden eyes raking your own visage, his gaze lingering upon your bosom, lifted and partially exposed by your dress. His gaze was lecherous, you knew it was, yet you found you liked it, subtly pushing your chest out for his inspection.  
“And what is it you want sir Ram?” You asked, swallowing as his eyes moved to catch your own. There was no mistaking the lust in them. The want and desire. Your body responded. Fire in your belly, heat between your thighs. 

“Two questions you’ve asked me now sweet thing.” His thumb rubbed circles into your wrist as he tugged you a fraction closer. “I haven’t captured you yet lady butterfly, and what I want… well.” Again, he let you go, eye full of dark promise.  
“If I find you again you just might find out.” This time your smile was knowing, and you bit your lip in excitement. You want to meet him again. You knew hardly a thing about him, yet he’s someone new, different, and the way he looked at you sent your body into shivers with excitement of the unknown. Nudged to the exit, his mouth brushed the tip of your ear.  
“Fly away little butterfly, before I cast my net and trap you here.” You blinked, turning to face him to ask his name, but once more he was gone. Magic you thought. Perhaps a magician brought on by the countess. The idea of a one night magical lover thrilled you. 

Your night seemed almost dull after that. The rooms full of wonder and splendor, yet the lack what you craved. Him, his golden covetous gaze, his wicked smile and haunting words. A phantom, you swear you catch sight of him but when you move to follow he is not there. Eventually, you found yourself in the paints room. A room full of lovers, licking paint from each other skin. It’s clearly erotic, not for a single woman. Still, you were drawn in, curiosity getting the better of you. A golden pot called out from the table and picking it up, you took it to a small alcove, away from wandering eyes.

“So glad of you to join me little butterfly.” He was there. Chest bare to show the expanse of pale skin, the grey white fur that trailed down his body only to vanish under his robes. Black lines decorate him, no doubt was in your mind that he painted on himself, the brush forgone in exchange for one of his claws.  
“And with my favorite flavor as well.” His human hand was held out to you, beckoning. “Your choice sweet thing. If we meet again after this, I will be sorely reluctant to relinquish you back to them.”  
You heart thundered under your breast, but you crawl over the cushions until you were by his side. Tucking your hair behind and ear, you bent, tongue darting out to dance over his skin, lapping up a portion of the black paint, caressing his nipple in the process. The taste runs over your senses. Your favorite.  
“What if I don’t wan to leave just yet Sir Ram?” You ask, fingers running up to his mask to remove it. Only, he caught your hand pulling it from his face.  
“Then indulge me my butterfly.” His butterfly- you gasped as he plucked the gold paint from your hand, dipping the brush in before lifting it towards you. 

“Allow me to make you my masterpiece.” His voice was sinful, and for some reason it felt like he meant something else. Yet you nodded all the same, leaning closer to allow him to work. His strokes were slow but precise. The soft brush matched with the cool sticky paint making your skin prickle with anticipation.  
Lines down your neck and arms. Dots upon your fingers. His brush moved further still, tiny likes on the shell of your ear.  
“How lovely you look my butterfly. Shimmering as your heart flutters for me.” 

The kiss was electric and you moaned into his touch. Guided buy the kiss, you licked the black paint from his skin, mouth hungry for the taste of him, the sensation of soft fur rubbing you skin. His moans were deep and throaty, almost orgasmic and pornographic. Yet no one noticed, too lost in their own activities. Inch by inch you removed the paint, relishing the medley of him and the paint. Of the feeling of skin and fur. Your feast of this horned stranger ended with his claw, suckling it, tongue swirling and lapping at it as if it were his cock. An action he knows you wish to mimic judging from the way he breathed and held your gaze as you kept sucking, long after the paint was gone.

“My turn.” You were not ready for him. His mouth finding the shell of your ear first nipping at it, lipping away the paint as your squirmed. He pulled you onto his lap, robes and dress unable to hide the erection that pressed against your thigh.  
His mouth was insistent, determined. Every mark he made with the paint he seemed to want to replace with marks left by him, as if to lay claim. Teeth rake over you, making you cry out in alarm and arousal. A hard suction on your inner arm left you gasping, mewling as his hand massaged your backside, not letting you go. Then-  
“Bare your breasts for me my butterfly.” By then you were a panting mewling mess of a woman. “Let me taste you.” Hypnotic, you melted to his command, reaching up and tugging the dress down, breasts bounding in the warm air. Never mind you could have been caught, but it was like magic. You wanted to obey, to serve, to do what he said. And oh- it was worth it.

His mouth sucked your nipples with enthusiasm making you keen and cry out. In your haze your hand gasped the horn of his mask, and he bucked against you, cock pushing, begging to be freed. Your own body sang in reply, cunt pulsing, wetness growing at an alarming rate. Yet your mysterious ram, your chosen lover of unknown origin didn’t stop. He lavished your breasts with attention. Tongue, lips, teeth- he marked your chest in a motley of spots. Bites and hard sucks to bruise and have you remember him by.  
His inhuman hand grasped your ass and with a hard slap, you cried out, a sudden tiny orgasm shocking you. He pulled away, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. 

“What a naughty thing you are my butterfly.” He crooned, kneading the flesh he’d so rudely abused a moment ago.  
“Cumming without my permission.” You gasped and blushed. How could he have known you wondered. How did he know that little accident.

 

His hand let go, and for a beat he simply watched you curious, uncertain what to do next.  
“A final chance for freedom my butterfly. Fly away from this place, from the web of lies and deception. But if you stay I will find you again, and I won’t let you go.”

You realized with clarity you wanted what he offered. You wanted him.  
“And if I want you to find me?” Gold eyes flashed with unhidden lust.  
“On the fourth floor, behind the door with the golden ram, there, you will find me.” He lifted you up and off of him, guiding you out the paint room and into the haze of the hall.

The party was thrumming, yet nothing it offered was as tempting, and tantalizing as him. The mysterious man who offered you that which you wanted, that which you’d come for.  
His room was not hard to find. And as promised, he waited inside, wine in his clawed hand, the dark red nearly black in the low candlelight.

“Who are you?” You finally asked. He just tilted his head, smirking.  
“I’m surprised you never figured it out.” His stride was confident, hand cupping your face for a moment. “You should have known better than to trust someone like me,” his purr was no longer seductive. It was a threat. “Magician.”

The world ground to a halt. No one knew you secret. Only Asra who’d been teaching you out of sight from all others. Yet how did this man know? Who-

You pulled away your mask, but when you reached up to remove his own- there was no seam. No string or push of fake makeup. No thread of magic to tug to undo a illusion or charm. Fear spiked into you before he smirked.  
“I want you.” The heat between your thighs has never left, and you wanted to run but yet-  
“My butterfly. My little sweet magician.” His lips are sweet- gold lingers on his tongue along with the taste of wine. You moaned as his hands worked the strings of your dress, soon having it on the floor, gone like a cocoon coming free of your body.

“You know me magician.” He crooned, peppering your face in kisses as he shrugged off his own robes, fur and flesh on one being.  
“You’ve met me before.” The voice is a memory and you moaned as he lifted you setting you atop his desk. “You know who I am.” Your pussy is wet, throbbing with need as he spread open your legs, standing between then as he worked on his lower leggings. You felt him with your magic gasping as your mind reaches your memory. 

He was two as one. Hierophant and man.  
“Arcana-“ He hissed, cock coming free, an angry red, thicker than a normal man, dripping with precum. “Hierophant-“ Golden eyes look down as his magic swelled around you, his cock slipping into you without resistance. His heat, his magic, his power rolled your mind, making you keen and cry out.  
Images flashed into your eyes. His name. His title. His purpose.  
“Con- Consul!” The laughter that left him was liberating, your hips pushing back against him in want. You wanted this, wanted him, and now, his cock rubbing every inch of your pussy, you were getting exactly what you craved.  
“Valerius!”

Wicked cruel eyes of the consul look down at you as he sank deep, the tip kissing your very core.  
“Very good little magician.” His breath is ragged, he was just as wanting, just as lust bound as you.  
“Very good.” The malice was gone. There was nothing but lust now, need and want as you moved against him, against them. He gave no reprieve fucking you hard enough the desk rocked, that you shook and cried out as you came, walls clenching trying to milk him.

The wet sounds of flesh on flesh were only broken by your soft mewls and plaintive whimpers as he took you again and again, each time altering your position, ensuring your pussy was stimulated, that you found a release before he did, following your cry with his own. Cum, hot and sticky filled your insides until your body couldn’t take any more, the rest gushing out and coating your thighs and his. Yet it wasn’t enough. It couldn’t be enough. Your arms slung around him, you clung to Valerius like he alone would ground you, yet he was also inhuman. Fused with an arcana, a being of magic that had never experienced what it had with you. Pleasure. Endless looping pleasure. 

Over and over you were subjected to his whims, fucked like a toy, used, screaming in agony of bliss while revelers were headless to your shouts for mercy from your mysterious and once enigmatic lover. Mercy, because the more he fucked you, the more you didn’t want him to stop. 

After what felt like hours, you kissed him, whispering his name like a prayer. Cunt swollen from abuse yet body singing in adoration and bliss. Gold eyes blinked before he kissed you, dawn approaching. Sleep came an unwelcomed friend. Your mind seeking your lover’s embrace before succumbing to exhaustion. 

Waking, alone and sore you felt hurt. It had been… something. A dozen questions lingered in your mind. Yet the one at the front was why he’d left. Why after all of last night, leave you to wake in a bed alone? Biting back tears you failed to notice the man standing at the balcony, admiring the twilight sky.

“Good morning.” His voice commanded your attention as he grinned.

Inhuman.  
Man and Arcana. Magic swirled around him and ran thick in the air.  
“My sweet.” He stepped closer, until he was by your side. “My little magician.” You gasped as his hand touched something at your back, making you moan with sudden lust and adore.  
“My little butterfly.”

And he was right. No matter if you had wings or not- he knew you’d never fly from him, not anymore.


End file.
